Battle For Life
by Tiro
Summary: During the battle of Pelannor fields, Legolas receives a serious wound and is thrown into the Anduin River. Will Aragorn find him, and will he survive? Non-slash. Chapter three, last chapter!
1. Chapter 1

**Battle for Life**

**Summary**: During the battle of Pelannor fields, Legolas receives a serious wound and is thrown into the Anduin river. Will Aragorn find him, and will he survive? Non-slash.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: A bit of blood I suppose.

Ah, and the fact I don't know much about Legolas I will make up some of his history. If you don't like it, don't read it.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own LotR.

-

**Chapter One**

Legolas was starting to feel it, the fatigue. No real rest for how many weeks already? Four? Perhaps even longer. Legolas could no longer remember a good night's sleep. It took out a lot of people, even an elf eventually. He had managed so far, however, now he was losing strength.

But he could not rest yet. The Orcs were still many in number, even with the Army of the Dead to help them. He had run out of arrows, and now turned around, his knives ready. Sure enough Orcs came running towards him, and he raised the knives to block.

After fighting for a while, he realized he was being pushed away, perhaps unintentionally. But by now he had strayed a good bit from the battle itself. He heard the water behind him, but Minas Tirith was not so far away. He would get rid of this group and get back to the city. It was growing quieter, which indicated the battle was nearly over.

He neatly avoided a blade coming his way and slashed one of his knives swiftly, the Orc crumpling to the ground with a hand against its neck, blood gushing out. Legolas figured he himself and his cloth would require a bath, as he had splatters of Orc blood up his leggings and even some on his arms and chest.

Realizing his mind was straying off the elf shook his head violently and returned to the battle at hand. There was no time to loose focus here, because that meant real death. He took out another Orc and took a step back. He regretted that as he nearly lost his balance. He was on the riverbank, he could hear the water. How smooth the sound was compared to the sounds of the battle.

His concentration slipped as he got away from the edge of the riverbank and a searing hot pain tore through his abdomen.

He staggered back and turned so he could see his attacker. A single Orc alive, and of course that Orc's blade was in his stomach. Legolas managed to kill the Orc with more luck than skill as his vision began to waver. His legs began to fold underneath him, and he felt more tired than before. His eyes slipped half-closed.

Suddenly another Orc. Legolas went down, had no strength to fight. But there were no more weapons. He felt the tremors in the Orc's hands as they lay on his arm. The creature was scared. The battle was lost for Sauron. He gained nothing in killing one elf. He gained more in running away.

Legolas felt himself be dragged, and his numb mind was sort of realizing what was happening. He was going to be thrown into the river, if he was right in what direction he was dragged to. The Orc was either loyal to Sauron to kill every one he could before going down or just simply stupid. The elf's tired eyes closed as he felt blood trickle down his chin from his mouth and nose. Aragorn had won this battle.

He felt slightly sorry he could not watch the joy of the victory, and dearly hoped his body could be found later so his father had not have to make yet another empty grave. His mother's missing body was enough, and then Legolas closed his eyes.

-

_Legolas was not very old but he knew his father was sad, very sad. He had not seen his mother in several days but was afraid to disturb Thranduil with asking that, now when his father looked so sad.__ Maybe it had something to do with her. Had she gone to visit someone without telling them first? She had a reputation of being a bit absent-minded, so it was not that unusual._

_Thranduil spotted him._

"_Legolas."_

_The elfling walked up to his father and looked at him._

"_What is it?" Thranduil asked gently._

"_Where is mother?" Legolas asked before he could stop the words tumbling out fro his mouth._

_Thranduil's eyes got sadder._

"_Mother… is not here," the elf said and lifted his son up._

"_Where is she?" Legolas asked, getting worried. Something was clearly wrong here. He knew it. His father would not look so sad otherwise._

"_She… has gone to meet her family."_

_Legolas frowned. What he knew of his mother's family was that they… were dead. His eyes widened and Thranduil swallowed thickly. His elfling was so little yet understood so much. Legolas' lower lip quivered. _

"_I'm so sorry," the older elf said and hugged Legolas tightly to himself._

He woke up.

-

It was cold wherever he was. Legolas managed with some troubles open his eyes. Immediately everything sprang back into place and everything started to hurt again.

His wound, his head, his limbs… his breathing. Something warm was slowly trickling down his cheek. He found no strength to get up his arm and check what is was. His muddled brain decided it was probably blood.

Almost his entire body was resting in the water. He felt the coldness slowly set in and realized he was going to die if he stayed in the water much longer. He felt no energy though nor any desire to move. Why did he have to move now again?

He heard calls. He faintly recognized some of Rohan's men, and blinked heavily. Aragorn… Gimli… they must be worried. Maybe he should get up anyway. His mind was so foggy he did not even think about this was life and death.

Slowly Legolas turned to his stomach, his wound stung a bit but not too bad; the blade was gone. He dug his fingers into the riverbank, and slowly dragged himself forward. It was a very slow and painful journey. Everything in his body hurt, and his vision was getting worse. He spit out blood from his mouth but it was slowing down. That could not really be a good sign as he saw his skin was white.

He lost the fight once he had gotten up so only his legs were in the water and turned to his side. He coughed, his throat hurt when doing that and he closed his eyes. There was no way he could do it.

Legolas opened his eyes again, staring empty in front of him. He saw dead Orcs, dead men, all mixed into each other. He heard faint calls, tried to summon up power to call out but found none. His voice was raspy, quiet even and he tried to get up on one elbow. There was no one close by and he tried again to call. No one would be able to hear him.

He felt his wound pull and put a hand against it. He felt the raw edges in his soft skin and his head fell down onto the ground.

_I am so sorry,__ Aragorn… no, Estel. Forgive me that I cannot stay until the end. __**Forgive me**__._

Tbc…

* * *

Chapter two: Aragorn searches for his elven friend. What will he do once he finds Legolas?

Until later,

Ja,

Tiro


	2. Chapter 2

**Battle for Life**

**Summary**: During the battle of Pelannor fields, Legolas receives a serious wound and is thrown into the Anduin River. Will Aragorn find him, and will he survive? Non-slash.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: A bit of blood I suppose.

Ah, and the fact I don't know much about Legolas I will make up some of his history. If you don't like it, don't read it.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own LotR.

-

**Chapter Two**

"Legolas!"

Aragorn looked around the battlefield once more, fully aware that even though the field was huge his elven friend should be able to hear him. So why was there no joyous call from the elf? Where was the teasing smile before Legolas would allow Aragorn to almost crush him with his 'tight filthy human hugs' but in the end always would hug back harder. Where was he?

"Legolas!" The dwarf seemed as equal worried, his head whipping around as if Legolas would magically appear before them. More often than not, the elf had done so. But not this time. No magically appearing Legolas, no. He was nowhere in sight.

"Are you missing your friend?"

Aragorn turned to see Eomer, the man holding his helmet in one hand and fresh tears glimmering in his face.

"Yes. I'm very sorry for your loss," Aragorn said and bowed his head. He had heard about Théoden. "What of your sister?"

"She has been taken to the Houses of Healing," Eomer said. "I shall search for survivors a little while longer before I join her. No signs of the elf?"

"None," the man said. "If he is playing hide and seek with me he has chosen a very bad time."

"We are going to search this area, then move out to the riverbank," Eomer said. "Maybe he is just unconscious."

"Perhaps," Aragorn said, swallowing. "We will help you."

"So will I," the man answered and bowed his head.

-

The sun was shining. The wind was soft, a bit warm, whispering. Blonde strands moved with the wind, the grass tickling Legolas' face. His eyes were open to a slit, watching his hand. It was so pale in the light. Was he dead already? There was no pain anymore. The ground was soft underneath his weak body, the wind so comforting… he could almost imagine himself back to Mirkwood. The great forest he loved so dearly. There his father waited. He was probably pacing in the palace, out himself of worry, scaring half of the advisors to death with his short temper and growling words. Legolas would have smiled at the scene if he could remember how to move his muscles.

However, he did not. There was no recollection of how to move. He was barely aware he was breathing. Or was he? After all, he maybe was dead already. Did dead people breathe? He wondered who would weep for him. His father, surely. Thranduil would be devastated. No one there to ease his pain of another loved one passing, the second and last. Legolas regretted being the only child. Had there been two, Thranduil maybe would be fine. But alas, there is no other. There had only been Legolas.

He breathed in the smell of grass. He was alive then. He could breathe and smell. But perhaps you could do that in death as well? If he tried to move he should be able to figure out whether he was alive or not.

But the ground was so soft. It would change if he moved, right? If he really was alive, all pains would come back. If he was dead… then he did not know.

His arm twitched and with it came pain. Hn. So he was alive. Well… Legolas was not sure what to make of it but he took it as a good sign and breathed again. It was getting harder to do that. He might require some assistance in that. Or rather, someone to help him away from there would be much appreciated. Perhaps even let him rest in a comfortable bed, as it had been many weeks since he had done that. He would not ask for much, just a pillow and a blanket or two. Well, if no one came then he simply had to get up and make sure someone came. Lying on the ground would help little to get him to a comfortable bed.

He brought himself to his elbows painfully slow, his lungs burning. His eyes opened wide and he saw everything clear for the first time in what seemed like forever.

He saw shapes of men moving around, kneeling down, checking but was too far away from them to see him with their eyes. He tried to draw breath to call but found himself coughing feebly and warm blood splattered onto his lips. No calling then.

Oh well… he just had to get up and walk over.

Walk over… maybe limp. Or if he really had to, he would use his bow as a stick. He would most certainly not crawl.

A sudden noise made him turn his head slowly. His eyes widened. The Orc moved closer, wheezing, holding a blade. Legolas felt panic rising and with his normal stubbornness he got up to his knees, his limbs screaming in protest and his chest heaving for breath. He managed to get a hold of a sword from a Rohan rider, as he did not know where his blades were and staggered to his feet. His legs shook; they would not hold him for long. The Orc raised its blade and Legolas steadied his hand the best he could. His entire frame was shaking and his clear vision began to fade.

He swung the sword, slashed the Orc's arm and staggered to the side, back towards the river. The Orc growled, moved to strike and Legolas managed to block. His movements were clumsy, desperate like a man's last wheezing breath before death claimed him.

Another strike and Legolas fell backwards. His head hit the water and he coughed as water trickled into his mouth and nose. He held up the sword as the Orc stumbled and was impaled on it. With his last strength he removed the filth from him. He closed his eyes, his head floating in the cold water. So much for getting up. He was back at the starting point.

He drifted off.

-

Aragorn saw the blonde head first and felt fear grip his heart. They had searched themselves out to the riverbank of the Anduin River, but had little confidence that anyone was alive. It had been hours since the battle was finished; many had perished during the hours no help arrived. But now as he saw Legolas' unconscious and bloodied form, he felt a fool's hope rise in him, that Legolas would be alive. The reality hit him though and he screamed:

"NO!"

Eomer and Gimli saw him run to the edge of the river and came running. They stopped dead in their tracks as Aragorn got up Legolas' lifeless body and held it tightly to his chest, screaming. The elf's head dropped back, the skin was white and dark blood on his cheeks, coming from the mouth, dried and stiff. Water dripping from his hair, his clothes bloody with both Orc blood and his own.

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered into the wet hair, cradling his friend's skull in his hand. "No… _Mellon-nin_, please wake up, hear me… 'Las…"

Gimli came to a stop next to them, Eomer kneeling down.

"My lord," he said. "It's… it's too late."

"No!" Aragorn screamed. "Legolas!"

As a response, Legolas coughed weakly. They all stared. Foggy blue eyes opened, stared up at Aragorn. The Ranger knew the elf could not see him. A white, trembling slim hand came up to rest on Aragorn's cheek, feeling the stubble, recognizing the man who held him.

"Estel…" Legolas whispered. "It's you… Estel…"

"Aye, it's Estel," Aragorn said, glad the elf could not see his tears. He took Legolas' hand before the elf could feel them, held it gently in his own hand. "Stay with me."

Legolas smiled, a heart-breaking sight.

"Estel… tell _Ada_… that I have only gone… to visit… mother…"

"No," Aragorn said. "You are not going to your mother, Legolas. She's gone. She's dead, _mellon-nin_. Don't break your father by following the same path."

"I cannot… feel my body," the elf said, his entire frame trembling faintly. "My eyes… bear no light for me… there is only… darkness… I cannot see you… Estel."

He was about to continue when he suddenly whimpered in pain. Aragorn looked up at Eomer and said:

"He needs help now. Go and alert the healers in Minas Tirith."

"Aye, shall I send someone to help you with him?" the man asked even as he rose.

"No, I carry him myself. Gimli, his weapons."

Gimli went off to retrieve them, as they lay on the riverbank not far from where the elf had been lying and Aragorn gently lifted Legolas up.

"Estel…" Legolas moaned. "_Mellon-nin_. This is… farewell."

"No!" Aragorn shouted.

Legolas heard no more.

Tbc…

* * *

Chapter three: Will Legolas survive? (And yes, I already know I'm evil for giving such cliffhangers -smile- )

Until later,

Ja,

Tiro


	3. Chapter 3

**Battle for Life**

**Summary**: During the battle of Pelannor fields, Legolas receives a serious wound and is thrown into the Anduin River. Will Aragorn find him, and will he survive? Non-slash.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: A bit of blood I suppose.

Ah, and the fact I don't know much about Legolas I will make up some of his history. If you don't like it, don't read it.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own LotR.

-

**Chapter Three**

Gandalf was sitting with Eowyn, the woman unconscious and looked over the beds with the various injured people. He would have searched himself for survivors had it not been for Eomer's request at having someone stay with his sister while he searched for any of his people that was still alive, waiting for help. Gandalf had agreed to watch over her, easing the man's worries.

Suddenly Eomer appeared, out of breath. He looked like he had run up here. How he had managed to run from Pelannor's field to the Houses of Healing with that armour on him was remarkable.

"My lord, if you are wondering about your sister," one of the healers began.

"No! Please, we need a bed! Also the needs to treat a severe wound made by an Orc-blade!"

"We who?" Gandalf asked as he got up from his chair.

Eomer looked at the wizard and swallowed thickly.

"Lord Aragorn," he said. "He requires it."

"Why for?"

"For the elf," Eomer said. "For Legolas. I sent them my horse as fast as I could, they should arrive any moment."

"Is Legolas well?" the wizard asked worriedly.

Eomer looked away.

"He is not," the man finally answered.

"We have a bed free in one of the private rooms, just down the corridor, last door to the left," a healer said to Eomer. "We have brought fresh bandages and both warm and cold water to the room. What herbs, if any, lord Aragorn might need he just needs to ask us."

In that very moment Aragorn arrived and Gandalf's eyes widened.

Legolas looked very little like the proud elven prince he was. Lifeless in his friend's arms, looking very much drenched in both water and blood, Legolas reminded Gandalf of the gruesome sight when an Orc carried Legolas' unconscious, or perhaps blissfully dead, mother away. They never found her body. To have Thranduil see this sight… it would kill the elven lord.

Eomer directed the Ranger to the room, and Aragorn allowed just enough time to have Gandalf rush inside before he shut the door.

"What can I do?" Gandalf asked. Aragorn looked up at him in surprise. "I am a wizard, yes, but I do know when some things need to be done. For an example, get him warmer while you clean that wound of his."

"Yes," Aragorn said. "We need clean clothes, and I need…"

"Whatever herbs you seek, ask the healers. I shall have fresh clothes for our friend, and some cloths to clean the worst off."

The wizard left the room to get a change of clothes and cloths while Aragorn began to peel the elf's upper garments off. He was careful even though he knew Legolas was too far away to feel the pain.

When the wound was exposed the Ranger swallowed thickly. It had begun to get infected and he mentally counted up what he needed before he got of the room. He caught a healer and said:

"I need your help."

After repeating the herbs for the woman, he sent her on the way to retrieve them and returned to his friend. The elf breathed shallow, his chest barely moved.

"Hold out," Aragorn murmured to the elf. He turned away and realized while he had water there was no cloths. He could not use the bandages.

Gandalf came in carrying the cloths he desired and the Ranger took one without saying anything and wetted it in the cold water.

"I will clean the wound," Aragorn said. "Can you take away the blood from his face?" He knew he would not be able to stand it for much longer.

They both worked in silence, both of them freezing when Legolas' breath faltered for a moment. He convulsed once, spraying his lips faintly with blood. Gandalf spoke to the unconscious elf in Elvish, hoping it would comfort him a bit at least.

The door opened and Eomer came in with a basket of herbs.

"They have much to do out there, so I brought the herbs you wanted," he said to Aragorn.

"What of your sister?" Aragorn asked as he took the herbs.

"Gamling is with her," Eomer said. "They say… she will not wake up."

Aragorn looked at the man and determination settled in.

"After I'm done here, I will help your sister," he said. "Be patient; this may take a little while."

"… Thank you."

"Go," Aragorn said. "Be with her. Your presence will be noticed by her, and she will take comfort in knowing you are near."

Eomer nodded and closed the door behind him. Aragorn turned back to the basins of waters and settled down for work.

-

Aragorn collapsed into the chair a while later, and looked at Legolas. The elf was still too pale, his eyes closed in exhausted sleep and dark rings underneath his eyes. His wound cleaned, tightly wrapped and the bandages hidden underneath the white robes. Normally Aragorn would have just dressed his friend in a shirt but his body had been so cold he was dressed in warm leggings, a shirt and a comfortable robe with two blankets tucked around him.

The elf was lying on his side, one hand tucked underneath the pillow, a position Aragorn had seen often with Legolas and knew the elf liked. He reached out and stroke away a few strands of blonde hair. He and Gandalf had cleaned it and now it was almost dry.

He stood up with a groan. He may be tired, but he was going to help Eowyn and then as many as he could. The Ranger made sure the blankets and the robe was warming Legolas up and said:

"I'll be back, 'Las. You just rest."

-

The man had just sat down to catch a bit of rest when he heard a healer:

"Lord Aragorn!"

He got up and saw she had called from Legolas' room. His eyes widened.

"He has a very high fever," the healer said as he approached. "I'm trying to bring it down but…"

Aragorn stepped inside and saw Legolas' chest heaving, his skin glistened with sweat. He rushed forward and felt the elf's forehead. It was hot to the touch. His body was warmer now, and Aragorn knew he had to make it colder.

"Bring me chilled water," the man ordered, "and cloths. We have to cool his body down."

The healer nodded and ran out.

"Don't do this to me, _mellon-nin_," the Ranger said. "Don't you dare die on me."

"_Ada_." Legolas' cracked lips moved, repeating the word, fruitlessly calling out for his father though not awakening.

All Aragorn could do was holding Legolas' hand and waiting for the healer to return.

Once she did, she had Eomer with her. The man was now out from his armour and held the basin with water.

"I must go," she said, giving the Ranger the cloths she had been carrying. "Will you two be enough or should I send for someone more?"

"No, thank you," Aragorn said. The horse-master put down the basin and Aragorn put all the cloths into the cold water. He then removed the blankets and slid out Legolas from the robe.

The two spent nearly an hour holding Legolas still and constantly changing the cloths. Finally the elf was lying calmly on the bed, his fever still there but not as dangerous as it had been and it gave Aragorn a chance to look at the wound. It had not reopened but the red edges made him cringe. For safety he put some salve on it before rewrapping the bandages. There were two beds in the rooms so he could move the elf from the wet one to the other one. Carefully he lifted his friend and Eomer had already cleared the other bed so the elf could just be laid down. Aragorn dressed him in the robe again and tucked him in.

"Thank you," he told Eomer.

"Friends help each other," the horse-master said.

Aragorn looked at him. Then he said with a smile:

"Aye… they do."

-

"Aragorn… have you rested at all?"

The man turned when hearing Gandalf's voice and smiled weakly.

"It feels like… he's never going to wake up," the man said as he gazed down at Legolas. The colour had returned slightly to the elf's skin, his breaths easier and in deep sleep, his eyes half-open. He had not woken once in the five days he had been unconscious, not even when he battled against the high fever four days ago. "We are to ride out to the final battle in the morning, and I fear more for him than for myself or anyone else. I fear… when I come back here he will be gone."

"You have two reliable people who will do anything in their power to keep him here, both in spirit and body," Gandalf said and clasped the man's shoulder. "Faramir may never have met Legolas, but he is very interested in our friend, and looks forward to speak to him. And Eowyn will not let him pass on. She greatly enjoys his calming presence and do not wish him any more pain, only joy and freedom. They shall look after him. The worst thing that could happen is that he wakes up, finds out we left without him and comes running anyway."

"That would not… really surprise me," Aragorn said. "Maybe we should strap him to the bed…?"

"Since when has that ever stopped him?" Gandalf asked in disbelief. "I seem to recall some of Elrond's horror stories including a witty elf and one stubborn boy."

"I was not stubborn!"

"What do you call it then? Obstinate? Pigheaded? Persistent? Hard-headed? Perhaps unreasonable?"

"Enough," Aragorn groaned as Gandalf smiled. "I do hope he will sleep until we get back. Who knows what ideas might run into his head shall he awake while we battle."

"Well, what do you know… he might think like you and do something foolish."

"Me? Have I ever done anything foolish?" Aragorn asked.

Gandalf looked at him.

"Well…" the man said after a while. "Maybe I have done it once or twice."

The wizard snorted at that.

-

Faramir lowered the book once he heard a slight rustle, and Eowyn tore herself from the window to come over.

Legolas' eyes slowly cleared and he blinked. He still looked sleepy and slowly moved his eyes onto both of them. Mouth dry, Faramir had no idea what to say. Eowyn however, found her voice easily:

"Good morning, my lord. It eases my heart greatly to see you awake. No, do not get up." At this she put a hand on his shoulder as Legolas had begun to rise on his elbow. "Stay and rest."

"Aragorn… where is he?" the elf managed to ask. Well, his lungs were no longer burning. All of his aches were gone, and he was warm. And hungry. And where was that bloody human when Legolas wanted to see him?

Feeling uneasy to lie but needing to keep Legolas calm Eowyn said:

"He has left the city momentarily but should arrive not long after now. Please, have a little to eat and then maybe you should rest some more."

Legolas knew she was lying; he could see it in her eyes. But however much he wanted to rise and demand her to tell him where that stupid human had gone, surely Aragorn the fool was fighting Sauron's army as they spoke, he could not move from the warmth. His skin still felt cold. He could barely move, and his wound pulled if he moved too much. No matter how much he wanted to fight alongside his friend, he would only be a burden at this stage.

He accepted the woman's help as he sipped the broth, the warmness soothing and comfortable. He was well aware of the man watching him but not staring. Just watching. That was fine. Aragorn trusted him if he was allowed to watch over Legolas while the elf slept.

After finishing the food he felt the sleep call for him again. He laid his head back on the pillow and mumbled out:

"_Hannon le_."

Faramir's eyes widened slightly and turned to Eowyn, but she had heard the phrase enough times to just reply:

"You're most welcome my lord. Now, rest."

-

Aragorn returned to the city, weary but victorious. Gandalf had probably had healers to start attending to Frodo and Sam, and to be honest the Ranger had not energy enough to tend too many injured even if he wanted to.

However, he watched over the transport of all wounded, and helped as many of them as possible to be comfortable. He quickly shed his armour for a light robe that was much easier to move in and simply put up his hair with a leather tie. He had not time to shower; he had to help at least a few. Then he would quickly get the worst off before checking in on Legolas.

It was after dark he finally got time to wash his face and the worst of his hair before drying himself off roughly. He set his wet hair up and walked to the elf's room.

Faramir woke up once Aragorn entered and looked sleepily up at the man. The new Steward had not even recovered fully yet he was exhausting himself for Aragorn's sake.

"My lord," Faramir said and rose up slowly.

"Go, get some rest," Aragorn said. "I have slept in a chair myself, more than once because of that stubborn elf, and I can agree with that they are not very comfortable."

Faramir nodded thankfully and slipped out, allowing Aragorn to be alone with his friend. The man soon-to-be-king had met Eowyn briefly and she told him as much as she could about Legolas.

The elf had woken up twice, both times he had eaten but fallen asleep as quickly. No trying to rise from bed, as even he seemed to have realized it would do no one any good. Aragorn sat down on the edge of the bed and gently laid a hand on his friend's cheek. Legolas stirred, his eyes clearing. Aragorn felt his heart slow down; despite reassurances, he would not be able to rest easily until he saw Legolas, awake and well.

"Estel?"

The man looked into Legolas' deep eyes and released a sigh of relief. He leaned down so he could rest his head on the elf's shoulder, breathing his friend in. Tired now, he moved so he could slide down behind Legolas. The elf sleepily turned his head and looked questioningly at him. Aragorn simply laid a hand where he knew the wound was, careful and felt the bandages underneath the clothing.

"You scared me, 'Las. I forbid you to ever do that again, you foolish princeling!"

"'Tis not my fault an Orc is skilled enough to injure me," Legolas huffed.

"You were exhausted, were you not? Not resting, always taking the watch, never sleeping… you barely had energy for this battle."

The elf said nothing. Aragorn moved his hand so he gently could wound the arm around his friend's middle.

"Never do that again," he said, this time quiet yet serious. "Never do that, even if it gives me and Gimli more rest, you hear me?"

"… Yes. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, my foolish friend. Just focus on regaining your strength."

"My father…"

"I sent a letter to him… three days ago, when I had time. He may come."

"He will."

"Aye… you're probably right."

Legolas blinked a few times to keep himself awake and said:

"What of the others? Are they all well?"

"Aye," Aragorn said. "Gimli was kind enough to take care of your weapons. They lie on the other bed right now. Merry and Pippin are both fine, so is Gandalf… and I have checked up on Frodo and Sam, both is resting."

"So you went to war with Sauron?"

"I would have let you come had you been healthy," Aragorn said. "But you were not. I would have sent you to death had I let you join us."

"I know."

"Are you angry with me?"

Legolas grew confused and looked over his shoulder.

"Why should I be angry?" he asked softly. "Stop be foolish and rest some, Estel."

"Hn. Take your own advice, elf."

"I am doing that, human."

"Prissy Prince."

"Want-to-be-King."

"Pointy ears."

"Snotty brat."

"You two act like children as usual."

The voice, deep yet smooth, made Legolas' eyes widen. He looked to the door and exclaimed:

"_Ada_!"

Thranduil was still dressed in his travelling clothes, dust and mud clinging to him and his hair a bit ruffled. Something told them from the moment he had gotten down from his horse he had run.

"You look like you came in a hurry, my lord," Aragorn said carefully.

"I might have been a bit unclear in my… description of where I was going in the middle of the night, but I do believe they will find out," Thranduil said and sat down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other and managed to look like the king he was despite his condition.

"You did not tell them?!" Legolas shrieked.

"I am the king, I do what I want! Besides, I wrote a letter that was on my desk!"

"You cannot find a simple letter on your desk, there are so many letters and papers there already!" Legolas replied. "_Ada_, tell me the truth or I am rising from this bed."

"Fine, be boring," Thranduil said but both his and Aragorn's hand descended on the Elven prince's shoulder to keep him down. "I gave a letter to my head advisor, and told him I was going here before the others will move out. I had not the patience to wait."

He stroke Legolas' cheek and the younger elf yielded, closed his eyes and grabbed both of their hands.

"Now I can rest in peace," he murmured. "Now when I know all is safe."

"Aye, that would be best," Aragorn soothed. "Rest away all aches and pains. We will all be here when you wake in the morning."

Legolas smiled and let the man climb out albeit a bit reluctant to do so. Thranduil removed his cloak and his outer robe, spreading the robe over Legolas so the elf could feel his father's scent. The richness reached Legolas' nose and he inhaled Mirkwood.

"Estel, where are you going?" he asked.

"I thought of leaving you two alone for a bit."

"He needs rest, I shall not take that from him," Thranduil said. "I understood the underlying message; you did not?"

Legolas' eyes shone with something, and Aragorn understood. He walked back to Legolas and sat down on the other side.

"I shall stay until you are asleep," he reassured. "No worry."

"Thank you, Estel, _Ada_."

He held both of their hands and his grip did not lighten even though he gradually fell asleep. The two looked at each other and Aragorn said:

"If he has strength enough to cling like this, he should be up in no time."

"Tell me about it," Thranduil said and winced. "Legolas, _ion-nin_, that is my bones you are trying to crush. No matter how much I despise paperwork, I rather have my hand intact for the next pile of papers."

Legolas' grip eased slightly and the king stroke his son's forehead.

"Sleep deep, and long. See Mirkwood again before join us here," Thranduil murmured.

-

Aragorn pulled at the armour, Gandalf swatting away his hands from them and he tried to glare at the wizard. Gimli chuckled before his eyes widened.

"Legolas!"

The soon-king turned around and he smiled.

Legolas' hair was falling freely down his shoulders and back, the fragile-looking jewellery around his head oddly out-of-place after knowing him mostly as a warrior (he did not wear anything 'kingly' if he could prevent it) and the clothes making his entire frame shine. Thranduil walked behind him, his magnificent robes alerting Gimli who it was. His mood dampened a bit but when he noticed no ill looks came from the older elf he relaxed slightly.

"_Mellon-nin_," Aragorn said. "It pleases me more than anything to see you up on your feet again."

"I would not miss your crowning no matter what shape I was in," Legolas said.

"If you had to crawl?" the man suggested.

"Oh, shush you smelly human."

"It's king to you, princeling."

"Hn," was Legolas' productive answer as he pulled a bit at the armour and robes. "You will forever in my eyes be Estel, no matter what title you gain. If you permit it."

"You would not stop even if I forbade you."

"True," the elf said with a grin.

"Well…" Aragorn said. "Good thing I do permit it."

Thranduil hid a snort and Gandalf shook his head.

"Let's get this over, shall we?" the man said. "Legolas, stop pulling. It looks fine."

"No, it does _not_," the elf insisted and gave a last pull. "Now it looks perfect."

Aragorn rolled his eyes.

"Elves," he muttered.

"Would you have wanted me any other way?" Legolas questioned.

Aragorn looked at the friend he had nearly lost, but managed in the end to save and smiled before saying:

"No, my dear Legolas… I wouldn't."

End

* * *

Hey, the ending! Hope you all enjoyed it. It was a short story about Aragorn and Legolas, but that's okay too I guess.

Until another time,

Ja,

Tiro


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